


From My Point Of View (Your Boyfriend Is Evil)

by SilchasRuin



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Comedy, Ensemble Cast, F/M, Family, Good Grandfather Palpatine (From A Certain Point Of View)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-16 18:40:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29458380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilchasRuin/pseuds/SilchasRuin
Summary: After half a lifetime spent as the CEO of Empire Holdings, Sheev Palpatine is certain of two things: firstly, that his beloved granddaughter Rey is the most talented individual in the entire world; secondly, that any descendant of Anakin Skywalker's is synonymous with disaster.When Rey shows signs of being interested in Anakin's grandson, Sheev sets out on a heroic quest to protect her from this obviously doomed relationship, using every cunning trick in his arsenal in his efforts to uncover Ben Solo's true intentions.Unfortunately for Sheev, Rey and Ben have more than a few tricks of their own up their sleeves...
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Sheev Palpatine & Rey
Comments: 11
Kudos: 29





	1. Chapter 1

The last thing that Sheev Palpatine had expected to see when he’d returned from his strategy meeting on how best to cut off Yuuzhan Vong Incorporated’s latest bid for market entry at the knees was Anakin Skywalker’s layabout grandson sitting on his couch, feet propped up on his favorite settee, with a glass of what looked like the Brunello di Montalcino that Sheev had been saving for Empire Holdings’ inevitable triumph dangling loosely from his left hand.

It was the boy’s right hand, which was entirely too close to Sheev’s darling, precious, _innocent_ granddaughter for his liking, that infuriated him most of all. Sheev felt a sudden, overwhelming urge to dash for a carving knife and chop it off.

The boy arched an eyebrow at him. “Is he having a stroke?” he said out of the corner of his mouth, clearly too dim to perceive the truth of Sheev’s superior hearing abilities.

“Don’t worry, Ben, his face just gets like that sometimes.” Rey – such a bright, vivacious girl, nothing like that dull, oversized turnip on the couch next to her – set her glass down on the table with an audible clink, bounding over towards him. “Here, Papa, I’ll get your cane. Don’t you want to come in?”

He smiled fondly at her. “Yes, of course, my dear,” he said, relinquishing the cane to her capable hands. He sat down to unlace his shoes, deliberately ignoring the massive figure lurking in the sitting room.

“As pleasant as this was, I should probably get going,” Anakin’s grandson said. Sheev scowled as he caught sight of the now-empty glass beside Rey’s. That cretin must have drained the rest of his wine in one gulp – it was supposed to be _savored_! Still, at least he was leaving-

“Oh,” Rey said, and he stiffened with alarm. Was that a note of _disappointment_ in her voice? But her next words were even more horrifying. “I’ll see you later, then! Drive safe!”

“I always do,” the boy said, with a cocky smirk that showed that he’d clearly managed to pick up all of Anakin’s most irritating traits. He nodded to Sheev as he made for the door. “Mr. Palpatine.”

“Drive safe,” Sheev said through gritted teeth, hoping that he would crash the car and lose all memory of Rey in some sort of freak accident.

He turned to Rey as the door closed, intending to question her thoroughly on the subject of ‘Ben’, but she beat him to the punch with a series of insightful questions on their market barrier strategy. He couldn’t help but beam at her proudly. With that innate Palpatine-brand vicious streak and her keen instinct for business, Rey would undoubtedly be an unholy terror when she accepted her legacy and assumed her rightful place as CEO of Empire Holdings.

And, sweet girl that she was, she’d even made him dinner! Sheev tucked into the ravioli with gusto. He hadn’t known that Rey could cook like this, with such a sublime combination of flavours; perhaps that was to be expected, though. His granddaughter could not possibly do badly at anything. “What an excellent dinner, Rey,” he said enthusiastically, taking an undecorously large bite.

Rey laughed. “I wish I could take credit, Papa. We knew we’d be working late, so Ben made dinner for us-“

Sheev choked on his bite of ravioli. His shoulders heaved as Rey rushed over to him, anxiously thumping him on the back. “Papa! Are you okay?”

“Fine,” he managed to rasp out between coughs. “I simply – choked on the salt; it’s oversalted – might be somewhat burnt, too, come to think of it–“

“Oh, _Papa,”_ Rey said fondly, her lips twitching slightly. He wondered about that hint of amusement for a moment, before another coughing fit thoroughly distracted him from his reverie.

Later that night, after the offending plates had been cleared away and Rey had finished fussing over him, Sheev lay wide awake, hands folded over his rumbling stomach and his narrowed eyes fixed on the ceiling.

Ben Organa-Solo was not good enough for his granddaughter.

Sheev readily admitted that _nobody_ , in fact, was good enough for his granddaughter. But that boy in particular? His father had been involved in some sort of dubiously legal enterprise in his youth, hadn’t he? To say nothing of his mother, who upon receiving her MBA had promptly turned around and started up a company that had risen from nothing to become Empire Holdings' biggest rival. And that hippie brother of hers! What if the Solo boy had learned his hygiene from his uncle?

Or, even worse, his table manners?

No, Sheev decided, his resolve firming. This situation was unacceptable. It was up to him to protect his darling granddaughter from the walking disaster that was Anakin Skywalker’s brood.

After all, Rey was such a sensible girl. He was sure that she would eventually see the wisdom of his plans.

***

“Be seated, my apprentice,” Sheev proclaimed, turning his chair to face Anakin. His eyes narrowed beneath his soft microfiber hood as he took in Anakin’s business attire. “Why are you not wearing your robe?”

His COO let out a world-weary sigh as he adjusted his tie. “Sorry, Sheev, I can’t stick around for the sauna today. Padmé’s really going to kill me if I miss trivia night this time.”

He held back a disappointed frown. Club Exegol was one of the most exclusive branches of the worldwide Sith Eternal country clubs, with an extraordinarily strict sponsorship requirement and access to some of the best rejuvenation treatments on the planet. Sometimes, it was as if Anakin didn’t appreciate Sheev’s hard work as Branch Emperor in the slightest.

Regardless of his protégé’s personal failings, he could not afford delay. “I saw your grandson yesterday,” he said, cutting straight to the chase.

“Really?” Anakin perked up, his blue eyes shining with far more enthusiasm than they’d ever had for _any_ of Sheev’s top-dollar Sith alchemical spa treatments. “Ben’s doing so well for himself, isn’t he? Did you know he made the Top 40 Under 40 list last year? I’ve got the article in my wallet here-“

“I’ve seen it,” Sheev lied, forestalling Anakin before he could pull his wallet out. He added, unable to help himself: “Rey graduated top of her class from MIT, did you know?”

Anakin stroked his chin, failing to hide a smile. “No, I don’t think you’ve mentioned it.”

“Well, she did,” Sheev sniffed. That abominable upstart clearly hadn’t been listening to him. He knew he’d mentioned it at least ten times in the past couple of months, let alone in the time following her graduation ceremony. This lack of attentiveness was yet another tally mark to add to the Skywalker clan’s list of sins. “Your grandson,” he said, leveling an accusatory glare at Anakin, “made _dinner_ for Rey last night.”

Anakin raised his eyebrows. “Well, that was nice of him.”

He restrained the urge to shout at the man. The time for that would come soon enough. “I am surprised that the impropriety of the situation does not bother you,” he said, instead.

“You’re overreacting, Sheev,” Anakin said, grinning widely. “I think it’s nice that they’re working together so well. Bodes well for the company.” He frowned quizzically at the look on Sheev’s face. “What, Rey didn’t tell you? She’s founding her own engineering startup. She brought Ben on to handle the financial side of things.”

 _”I_ could handle the financial side of things,” Sheev said, feeling strangely wounded.

“Yeah, sure, but that’s not really the point.” An infuriatingly understanding look passed across Anakin’s face as the man sank into the chair across from him. “You know what kids are like these days, Sheev. Always wanting to be independent and stretch their wings; get a taste of rebellion, the whole nine yards. You and I weren’t so different, were we?”

“Rey is not a rebel,” Sheev said, scowling darkly. And, as far as he was concerned, backstabbing his cofounder, Plagueis Muun, to rise up as the head of Empire Holdings had just been good business. There had been nothing ‘rebellious’ about it at all.

“Sure, she isn’t,” Anakin said, flashing him a smarmy grin. “Kids these days, huh?” He leaned forward, thumping Sheev on the back conspiratorially until he finally caught sight of the frosty glare that Sheev was levelling at him from beneath his hood.

“You will help me discover the nature of this…liaison…between Rey and your grandson,” Sheev hissed.

Anakin rolled his eyes. “You know you could just ask Rey about it, right?”

“And have you asked _Ben_ about it?” Sheev nodded, satisfied, at Anakin’s silence. “I thought not. It’s not a story your grandson would tell you.”

“Fine,” Anakin sighed. “Come to dinner with Padmé and I this weekend, and I’ll help you out.”

His eyes narrowed. “Dinner? Why?”

“Oh, come on,” Anakin said in exasperation. “Weren’t you her mentor for ten years, or something? She still talks about you, you know.”

Nothing complimentary, he was sure. “I’m not in the habit of dining with senators who vocally oppose corporate tax cuts,” Sheev said coldly.

Anakin folded his arms, mirroring his posture. “And I’m not in the habit of spying on my grandkids.”

He feels his lips peel back from his teeth. “One dinner.”

Anakin had the temerity to beam at him. “Great! See you then! I’ve really got to run, though. We’ll talk later about what you should bring, all right?“

“Bring?” Sheev snapped. “What do you mean, _bring-“_ But Anakin had already made a hasty retreat, dashing out the doors with a spryness that belied his almost completely white hair.

Grumbling, Sheev sank back into his chair, steepling his fingers in thought. Anakin was far too flighty to be counted upon. It would have to be up to him to extract information from his granddaughter.

Subtly, of course. As always.

***

“You’re home early today! What’s the occasion?”

“No occasion,” he said, beaming at her. “I thought it would be nice to spend a relaxing evening with my favorite granddaughter.”

She grinned as she caught sight of the takeout bag in his hands. “You’re the best, Papa,” she said, leaping up from the sofa. “There’s no such thing as having too much of Dex’s Diner!”

He frowned in confusion. The last time they’d ordered takeout had been a couple weeks ago, but Rey _was_ inordinately fond of greasy-spoon diners. “I can pick up something else, if you would like,” he suggested hopefully. “Perhaps L’Atelier? I can speak to the chef about that off-the-menu dessert you liked last time-“

“Burgers are always perfect! Thanks so much for picking them up, Papa.” He could hear the clink of glasses as she rummaged around in the kitchen. “I stopped by on Monday, actually. Can you believe Ben had never been to Dex’s before?”

He was glad that Rey couldn’t see the frozen expression on his face. “Really,” he said, when he was able to speak again. “How uncultured of him.”

“I know, right?” she exclaimed as she emerged from the kitchen, the dinnerware balanced precariously in one hand. “At least now he knows what he’s been missing all these years. Maybe we’ll try Maz’s place, next time.”

“I’m sure that would hardly be necessary,” he said, his voice faint.

“Can’t have him staying ignorant forever, right?” Rey said cheerfully, pouring her carton of fries onto her plate. “Besides, where else are we going to go? The Outlander Club?”

“Out of the question,” Sheev said, horrified. “They sell death sticks there!”

“Well, there you have it,” Rey said, spreading her arms. “Got to be Maz’s. Anyways, we shouldn’t talk about death sticks over such a nice dinner, should we?”

Sheev quite agreed with her. “Perhaps we should talk about your friends. How is that charming boy you met at MIT? Fen, was it?”

“Finn? He’s doing great! He’s the favorite to get the national fencing title this year – Rose said he might even get tapped for our Olympic team! She’s terribly excited, even if it means they might have to be long distance for a bit.”

So two of her friends were out of the running as possible rivals for Rey’s affections. A pity – if he remembered correctly, Rose had been quite a talented programmer. She would certainly have made a far more suitable partner for Rey than the Solo boy. “What about the other one? The pilot?”

“Poe? He’s doing better than great, if the pictures he sends to our group chat are anything to go by,” she said dryly.

Not physically present, in other words, rendering this candidate unsuitable as well. A pity, to be sure, but this minor setback did not mean that the battle was lost.

Still, the situation was far worse than he had anticipated. Fondness for a member of the Skywalker clan could only end badly for Rey. He would have to move swiftly to ensure that she would be spared the inevitable pain that would result when the Solo boy ran off to become a provocateur, or a hermit, or whatever sort of oddity was out of fashion these days.

Even if it meant that he would have to honor a deal with the devils themselves.


	2. Chapter 2

“I suppose I should be congratulating you.” Padmé Amidala’s smile was so sharp that it could have cut glass. Her hands twisted around the bottle of Gungan bubble-wine he had brought in a manner that was eerily reminiscent of wringing a neck.

“Yuuzhan Vong’s loss was a surprise, to be sure,” he said, allowing some of the satisfaction he felt to appear on his face. “But a welcome one, nonetheless.”

She didn’t buy a word of it, of course. “Some might call that bid rigging.”

He gave her his most genial smile. “Some might have to prove it.” She knew as well as he did that any attempt to do so would take Anakin down far before any tendrils of suspicion could even so much as brush against Sheev’s handmade leather shoes.

Not that any such attempt would be made, of course. Amidala and her meddling bloc were far too preoccupied with the obvious bait of Nute Gunray’s price-fixing cartel to pay him too much heed. As for the rest of her colleagues – well, as far as they were concerned, Sheev basically _was_ the Senate, with the amount of his money that went into lining the ruling party’s pockets.

The viperish glare Amidala was directing at him made it quite clear that she didn’t share this opinion. In fact, it was beginning to make him seriously wonder if she’d poisoned the food.

Anakin, of course, had no such concerns. The Skywalker patriarch was wolfing down the appetizers as if he’d never seen a decent meal in his life. With a jolt of horror, Sheev suddenly realized where that Luke boy must have gotten his table manners from.

He supposed that he should count himself lucky that Anakin bothered to use cutlery at business dinners, at least.

At last, Anakin looked up for long enough to notice Sheev’s look of mingled fascination and revulsion. “Sorry,” he said, with a sheepish grin. “Padmé’s cooking is just too good to resist. I’m afraid my main course’ll be a let-down, after this.”

“Nonsense, Anakin!” Amidala may have been a damned nuisance, but he had to admit that he was impressed by the way her face slid from murderous to adoring in the blink of an eye. “Besides, you ought to leave some of the blossom bread for our guest.”

Well, that confirmed it. The food was definitely poisoned.

“Tell me,” Sheev said, smoothly changing the subject, “how has your grandson been? Benjamin, is it?”

“Just Ben,” Amidala said. He was pleased to note that she seemed to be unable to muster up her usual venomousness when talking about her offspring. “He’s doing just fine. Why?”

Anakin snickered. “Sheev’s been watching his career with great interest. Haven’t you, Sheev?”

Amidala’s eyes narrowed even further. “Really? How…interesting. And why would he have been doing that?”

Could it be? A crack in Amidala’s legendary armor? “Oh, no reason,” Sheev said, idly swirling his wine-glass. “I merely thought that he may be interested in following in his grandfather’s footsteps,. He may have a future with Empire Holdings, after all.”

“Oh, good,” Amidala said icily. “I see that we have moved from anticompetitive schemes to nepotism.”

Sheev didn’t really see the problem with this, considering that nepotism wasn’t actually illegal. Perhaps the Senator painted all morally grey activities with the same black brush? How woefully dull her life must have been, without even a touch of petty crime to enliven it!

“So!” Anakin said, finally looking up from his plate long enough to notice the tense atmosphere. “I’ll just fetch the roast, then, shall I?”

“You’d better leave the carving knife in the kitchen,” Sheev muttered.

“Don’t be crude, Sheev. If I was going to kill you, I’d do it with poison,” Amidala said sweetly, confirming his suspicions.

“Does anyone else smell something burning?” Anakin exclaimed, his eyes wild. “Is the roast on fire?”

They did. It was.

On the bright side, the distraction meant that Sheev was able to toss his piece of blossom bread into a planter when nobody was looking.

The evening could only go further downhill from there.

***

“So,” Anakin said awkwardly. He’d brought Sheev a red velvet frappuccino as a peace offering, which he set delicately on the surface of Sheev’s custom-made desk. “About last night-“

The drink probably represented his suggested caloric intake for the entire week. That knowledge was undoubtedly part of why it tasted so damnably good. “The roast was quite tolerable, once you sliced off all the burned bits,” Sheev said, feeling rather generous after the infusion of sugar he’d received.

“Well, that’s good,” Anakin said with audible relief. “So, er, listen – well, I’m probably not supposed to tell you this, and I don’t really understand why, but Padmé said that was the best fun she’s had in ages. Did you want to come over again next Friday?”

Sheev cast a meaningful glance at the frappuccino cup. “With sufficient motivation, perhaps I might be persuaded to make an appearance.” He hadn’t _enjoyed_ dinner with Amidala, of course – that would have been ridiculous. No, the only reason he was agreeing was definitely that he’d spent most of the night coming up with quite the devastating series of subtle insults and clever comebacks. It would be a shame to let such barbs go to waste on a less clever opponent, after all.

Anakin grinned. “Great! I’ll text Padmé.” Sheev’s eyebrows shot up as he pulled a sleek phone from his suit pocket. The boy had been infamous for resisting all advances in the field of phone technology. Never mind that he’d been a prodigy when it came to all other forms of computing – the cell phone he’d insisted on using for the past decade was a veritable relic, clunky and festooned with far more color-coded buttons than it ought to have needed.

“Did your old phone battery finally explode?” The damnable thing had certainly made enough noise to sound like a ticking time bomb – or a wheezing one, rather.

“Ben got this for me,” Anakin said proudly, thrusting the phone towards him. “Look – I can use _emoticons_ now!”

In Sheev’s opinion, the message looked like some sort of pictorial stroke. If he wanted Anakin to help him, he had better move fast, before he degenerated further. “I have discovered that Rey plans to meet your grandson at Maz’s diner two nights from now.”

Anakin looked thoughtful. “Not what I’d call a great date spot, but different strokes for different folks, right?” Catching sight of Sheev’s scowl, he cleared his throat. “So what’s the plan? We hide in the bushes and spy on them?” When he didn’t answer immediately, Anakin’s jaw dropped in dismay. “I’m over six feet, and you’ve got bad knees,” he hissed. “We are _not_ hiding in any bushes.”

He frowned. “There are no bushes inside Maz’s diner, fool.”

Anakin looked even more horrified than before. “You want to spy on them from _inside_ the diner?”

He struggled to keep his scowl hidden. Once again, Anakin had underestimated his power. “Obviously not. We are far too recognizable.”

“Oh, good. You know, for a second I really thought you were going to-“

“That is why we will be asking Count Dooku to spy on our behalf, instead.”

Anakin choked on his cup of coffee. It would have been quite entertaining, had he managed to avoid spilling a decent amount of liquid on the polished floor.

Truly, the things that he had to put up with when dealing with the Skywalker clan were almost too much to bear.

***

“Darth Tyranus,” Sheev declared, inclining his head in a perfectly practiced tilt that prevented his hood from falling back to reveal his face.

“Branch Emperor Sidious,” Dooku said, clasping Sheev’s hand and executing the secret Sith handshake with impressive precision.

“Nice to meet you. I’m…Darth Vader, I guess,” Anakin said with a distinct lack of enthusiasm.

“Charming,” Dooku said, glowering at Anakin before sweeping towards his seat. “Really, Sheev. What were you thinking, letting this young upstart into the club?”

“He has his positive qualities. Sometimes.”

“Make that scotch a double, please,” Anakin said to the hovering waiter.

“A glass of the Barbaresco, if you please,” Dooku said. His voice was noticeably warmer as he turned back towards Sheev. “I must admit, I am flattered to have been thought of in your time of need. May I ask what the occasion is?”

“It has come to my attention,” he said, leaning forward to underline the importance of his words, “that my granddaughter may be…involved, somehow, with Anakin’s grandson. We are in need of a trusted and valued ally to discover the true nature of their relationship.”

Dooku blinked several times, staring at Sheev as if he had transformed from a prince into a particularly repellent frog before his very eyes. “Excuse me?”

“Told you we should have asked Obi-Wan,” Anakin muttered.

Sheev glared at him. Did the idiot not remember that his grandson had been named after Kenobi? Even if they had managed to get the irritating man to participate in their scheme – he would probably suggest going to family therapy instead, the patronizing brat – Ben Solo would probably recognize him right away.

“I understand that this may be a novel concept,” Dooku drawled, sounding anything but understanding, “but have you tried speaking to your grandchildren?”

Anakin’s loyalty could be a fickle thing; still, Dooku had evidently antagonized him enough for Anakin to land firmly on Sheev’s side. “You know how kids are these days,” Anakin said, as if he hadn’t voiced exactly the same idea a couple of days ago. “They don’t want to tell their elders anything-“

“Nonsense,” Dooku said, folding his arms. “I am not even related to Qui-Gon, and he tells me far, far more than I would ever have wished to know.”

“Really? Like what?”

“You do _not_ wish to know,” Dooku said flatly, his lips pursing with distaste. “There are things in this world that cannot be unseen.”

“We are getting off topic,” Sheev said, to Anakin’s visible disappointment. “Let us be frank, my old friend. What will it take for you to help us?”

Several hours, many arguments, and an uncountable number of drinks later, he had his answer.

***

“This is the stupidest thing I’ve ever done in my whole life,” Anakin said glumly. Unseen in the backseat of the car, Sheev rolled his eyes. He could think of at least nine more idiotic incidents off the top of his head – he was absolutely sure that more would come to mind if he really thought about it – but he supposed that he ought to allow the boy his delusions.

A flash of static heralded Dooku’s voice in their earpieces. “I quite concur,” he said, sounding rather disgruntled.

“Never mind whether or not you _concur,”_ Sheev snapped. “What are they saying? What are they doing?”

Dooku sighed. “They are examining the menu. There appears to be a lively debate going on over the merits of different types of burgers. It is all terribly trite and uninteresting.”

Well, that was most certainly Ben Solo’s fault. Sheev knew very well that Rey was a scintillating conversationalist. “Does it look like a business dinner?” he asked hopefully.

Another long sigh. “It _looks_ like a hive of scum and villainy. And I mean that quite literally. The plates have not been properly cleaned. And the less said about the wine, the better-“

“Focus, Dooku! Remember the rewards that were promised to you!”

“Very well,” Dooku said, sounding far more irritated than he should have been. “They have placed their orders, after much boring deliberation. Now they are flirting.”

“Nice!” Anakin exclaimed.

“What?! Flirting? What do you mean, flirting?” Sheev demanded.

“Oh, grow up, Sheev,” Dooku said. “I may be old, but I like to think that I, at least, am not a puritan-“

“Way too much information,” Anakin muttered.

“You will be pleased to know that it is all very chaste. He made some sort of joke about radar. She laughed far more than the joke warranted and touched his arm.”

“Hey, the radar joke!” Anakin said. “Now I know why he was trying out that mini stand-up routine on Padme and I!”

“No, no, no,” Sheev muttered to himself. This was a horror that he could never have imagined. Yet there was, perhaps, still hope. Such light flirtations surely indicated that Rey’s attachment to the boy was little more than a passing interest. He could redouble his efforts to find a better suitor. Tarkin had a grandson, didn’t he? And then there was Thrawn, who’d been a handsome enough fellow back in his day. Did he have any progeny?

“Well, _I_ think it was a good joke,” Anakin said. “Fine, then - _you_ tell me a better one, if you’re such a comedian-“

“What are they talking about now?” Sheev interjected. “Has a business venture been discussed at any point? Finance, perhaps?”

“No,” Dooku said curtly. “And I cannot continue to keep craning my neck and staring at them every ten seconds. I will be noticed. Already, the bartender has been giving me suspicious looks when she sees me muttering to myself.”

“Everyone in Maz’s Diner is suspicious. It is a feature of the restaurant,” Sheev hissed.

“Well, it is my professional opinion that this is in no way a business dinner,” Dooku said. “They have mostly been talking about television shows and gossiping about their friends.”

“Ah. Platonic conversation,” Sheev said, relieved.

“Have you never been on a date before?” Dooku demanded, exasperated. “How on earth did you manage to hold a normal conversation with someone for long enough to convince them to marry you?”

“I think he cloned himself, personally,” Anakin said.

“Both of you, shut up,” Sheev said. “Dooku, check on them again.”

“Oh, for god’s sake, Sheev-“

“Do it!”

The sounds of incoherent grumbling could be heard through the earpiece as Dooku went through the apparently laborious process of turning his head a few degrees. “Oh. Oh, _my.”_

“What?” Sheev demanded. “What does that mean? Explain yourself immediately!”

“That means that their relationship is _definitely_ not platonic,” Dooku said. “You know, I rather approve of how liberal today’s youth are. Although I rather think that such forward gestures should be reserved for non-public spaces-“

Sheev ripped his phone from his pocket, dialing frantically.

“What are you _doing?”_ Anakin said, twisting around.

He slashed his arm through the air, gesturing at the man to be quiet. “Rey!”

“Papa?” Rey sounded confused. “What’s going on? Is everything okay?”

“Are you _calling_ her?” Dooku demanded. “This is utterly farcial-“

Sheev pulled the earpiece out and crushed it under his heel. “I-I feel ill,” he said, which was not entirely untrue. “I think Amidala poisoned me. With the burnt roast. Or perhaps I am simply dying,” he added, in case food poisoning didn’t sound serious enough. “I am a weak, old man – my constitution cannot bear such treatment-“

“Are you _serious?”_ Anakin hissed. Luckily, Rey didn’t seem to have heard him.

“Oh my god! Is it really bad? Should I call an ambulance?”

“No!” Sheev exclaimed, alarmed. “No, no – on second thought, I am only figuratively dying-“

A deep voice said something in the background, and Sheev’s alarm grew further. “Hang in there, Papa, all right? Ben’s going to drive me home right away; we’re only a ten minute drive from you-“

Ben was coming with her? “Wait – that really won’t be necessary-“

“I’m on my way,” Rey repeated firmly, before hanging up.

“We have to go,” he told Anakin.

“Are you nuts?! I thought we were just spying on them, not acting like the Dating Inquisition!”

“We have to leave, _right now,”_ Sheev snapped. “Your grandson graciously volunteered to drive her back home.” 

“Ben’s driving?” The blood drained from Anakin’s face. “He drives like a maniac! He’ll make it to your place in five!”

“Then get moving, you fool!”

“I can’t believe you talked me into this!” He supposed that it was a good thing that Anakin was able to drive recklessly and whine at the same time. “You know, it would serve you right if your granddaughter caught you. Don’t you feel ashamed of yourself?”

“I _feel_ like you should drive faster,” Sheev snapped. “Unless you want your grandson to catch _you_ with me.”

“That’s the only reason I’m driving, because I actually really hate you right now,” Anakin said. “Hey, Dooku – yeah, sorry about that, we know they’re leaving. Yeah…well, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but he actually called her faking an illness like some high school kid, and now we’re running from our own grandchildren. Yes, I know this is stupid. Yes, I agree with you completely; he’s gone stark raving bonkers.”

Anakin ought to thank him for this. It seemed like he’d managed to forge a valuable connection with Dooku.

“You know, Sheev,” Anakin said, a dangerous tone in his voice, “I think I know the best way to handle this situation.”

“If you turn me in, I will take you down with me, Anakin,” he warned him.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he grumbled. “We’ll meet at the club on Friday to talk about it, so you’d better get over your little bout of ‘food poisoning’ by then.”

“Fine,” he said, eyes narrowed. The whippersnapper forgot his place, sometimes.

Still, there was no harm in hearing him out, at least.

After all, his plan could not possibly be any more humiliating than what had just transpired.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We will see more of Rey and Ben next chapter! Sheev tends to hog the spotlight a little - it must be all of that unlimited power going to his head.


End file.
